


to earth

by younglemonade



Series: Day of the Summer 2017 [1]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, i used to be newyorkrenegades, i write 12x8 etc., welcome to my new user name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-27 17:22:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/younglemonade/pseuds/younglemonade
Summary: first Day of the Summer fic prompt: what if Clark's pod was delayed?/ / /"He can’t understand her yet, but Lena promises him she will keep him safe, this boy who fell from the sky, from the planet he’s fallen onto, and all the people in it."





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys,  
> it's me, newyorkrenegades, except i changed my username to be the same as my tumblr url, younglemonade. this means fic recs linked to my account now longer work :( however, i hated the old username so much i decided it would be worth it lol. anway, welcome to entry 1 of my fic challenge!
> 
> theladyellen asked: Hello! Very excited about this prompt session! I'd love a supercorp au in which Clark's pod got delayed so much, that Kara gets to raise him after all :-)
> 
> I took the first part and ran with it lol.
> 
> I'll be writing fic prompts for supercorp, shoot, skimmons and trimberly each day this summer, so hmu on tumblr @younglemonade with your ideas!

It’s Lex who finds the pod, watches it crash to Earth and tear apart the marmalade sky. He’s already a little lost by then, conspiracy theories twisting around his bones like vines as he stumbles in the dark, fumbling down the path of their father a little more each day. He is sure they are not alone in the universe, and even more sure that it will be him who protects them from the strangeness out there. Even more sure that the name _Lex Luthor_ will echo for generations. And Lena – Lena still loves too much and looks too little, content to cling to the rose-tinted image of her brother as she first remembers him; gangly and kind and so ready to let her be a part of his life. She spends most of her time buried away in her apartment, working on her thesis, surfacing to visit Lex whenever inspiration wanes. He’s a little different every time, but she doesn’t notice.

The baby changes everything. The baby they find and bring home who they _know_ isn’t just a baby, even though Lena tries very hard not to know, not to think about what all this might mean. The first few days are ones she will always keep shiny, iridescent memories of – just her and Lex and an infant, all out of their depth but happy all the same. Lena can almost convince herself that he never crashed to Earth at all, no matter what the pod Lex dragged from the field and into his lab suggests. Lex’s eyes are a little too wide and a little too curious, but it’s all okay until the baby grips Lex’s thumb so hard it nearly breaks, and instead of screaming, her brother lights up, chanting, _I knew it, I knew it, he’s one of them._ Every rumour Lex has ever swum in like silk suddenly flash freezes around him, hard and real at once, and it’s only a breath before he’s leaping off to grab his devices and instruments, intent on knowing everything, just like always. No matter the cost.

Lena begs him not to touch the child, and almost believes he won’t, but there’s a twist to his expression, and for the first time, she doesn’t quite trust him. She makes every excuse not to leave him alone with the baby, until she manages to remind herself that Lex is her brother, and he’d never do anything to hurt someone. She leaves the mansion and heads into the town, in search of the items google recommends for the care of an infant, which is something her PhD never prepared her for. She returns to the sound of the earth rolling its shoulders, an explosion rattling up through the dirt from the basement of their house. Lena runs, forgets to breathe and runs, down the stairs, to the lab that is in ruins. Equipment is strewn everywhere, metal shards stabbing through the walls. Some machines she recognises, some she doesn’t. The moment she finds her brother’s body is an earthquake all over again; the world shifting even as he lies still, eyes blank like deep water, the kind that rests at the bottom of a lake for millennia. And then she finds the baby, body trapped in a contraption of Lex’s design but safe and alive, untouched by the blast that killed everything and destroyed everything non-living as well.

Lena gives herself a moment in the rubble, between the boy and the body, to let her tears wreck her. And then she goes over to the cage and unlocks the door and presses the crying baby to her chest, trying to convince herself to inhale, exhale. What is she supposed to do now? Lena doesn’t have a plan, not really. She’s always been an accessory, a part of other people’s lives; she doesn’t really have her own. If their positions were switched, Lex would call Lillian. But – Lena may not have seen her mother in nearly a year, but she still knows her, the fundamentals of her. She cannot tell Lillian the truth about the baby. If the tug of the unknown had beckoned even Lex to attempt to experiment on a child, it would surely drive Lillian to madness.

She’s frozen for a moment longer, long enough for the baby to stop crying. For him to curl into her, fingers looping delicately around the edge of her sweater. And then she thinks about how easy it would be, with her tech skills, with how she’s stayed out of the public eye since starting her thesis, out of every eye, really. He certainly looks enough like hers to raise no questions; they have the same dark hair and pale skin, and, well – maybe she had a one-night stand with startlingly blue eyes, right?

It only takes an hour, and then the baby is Clark Luthor, and Clark Luthor is hers.

He can’t understand her yet, but Lena promises him she will keep him safe, this boy who fell from the sky, from the planet he’s fallen onto, and all the people in it.

The headlines are _Luthor-Corp Heir Dead_ , and _Luthor Baby Scandal._ Lena doesn’t mind. Better a scandal than the truth.

She isn’t sure she’s done the right thing. Maybe it was the most-right thing possible at the time. But then Clark smiles his innocent smile at her, the one that makes him glow, all young and cheerful, and she doesn’t care anymore.

/ / /

Clark is the cutest baby in the universe, and Lillian quickly gives up berating Lena for “smearing the family name” and starts planning photo opportunities, wondering how much good will an adorable infant will get their company, and what a new boy heir will do for their stock values.

Lena has always bent to Lillian before, unwilling to lose the last twinge of maybe-love between them, but on this, she doesn’t budge. Aside from the fact she’d rather die than let Clark have a childhood like she did, there’s always the worry that the further he is into the spotlight, the more likely someone is to notice that he isn’t quite normal. Someone like Lex.

/ / /

Lena’s only experience with reciprocated love was Lex, but she thinks Clark likes her well enough. She isn’t sure quite how babies decide things like that, even though she’s read about a hundred textbooks on infancy and childhood since he was dropped into her lap by the stars. He coos when she holds him and pats her cheeks when he can get his wildly waving arms under control. He quiets when she holds him close and cries if she leaves his sight, even for a few moments. All and all, she thinks they’re okay. A tiny little family; someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, and someone who doesn’t mind.

She misses Lex like someone took all the bones from her body, left her with nothing to hold her up, left her heavy and drooping. But when she’s with Clark it’s the happiest she’s ever been.

Maybe all those years in the orphanage when she’d dreamed of having a family that really loved her, that was perfect, and she didn’t get one – well, maybe the universe was just saving up, so that when she was twenty-one, it could get her the best, most precious one.

/ / /

If it’s hard to get people to take you seriously when you’re a woman in business, it’s even harder when you’re a single mother.

Lena doesn’t mind. She never wanted to be a company figurehead, anyway.

She has her own private lab at Luthor Corp, testing theories and developing new products. Science and innovation. What she’s good at. The only thing.

She’s too afraid to leave Clark at a day-care – what if someone figures out the truth? So she brings him to work with her most days, lets him nap and play and babble to himself while she works. If that explosion proved anything, it’s that he’s far safer than she is from lab accidents, but she can’t take the risk, sticking mostly to hypotheticals these days, and leaving the practical tests to other teams throughout the company. She’s never been a big one for baby talk, and instead chatters to him sometimes about what she’s doing, ten dollar biochemistry words and all. He nods along to the candace of her voice, but sometimes it makes her laugh, him frowning in concentration, as if he can understand at all.

/ / /

“Umumum,” Clark chants to himself, taking a brief break from chewing on his own foot. Lena had worried the first time he did that, but apparently it’s a normal thing, just babies investigating where their bodies end. He’s in her lap, and they’re watching the Discovery Channel, because it’s probably not too early to get Clark into science, right?

“Mumum,” he repeats, louder, clearly trying to get her attention. “Mumum.”

“Oh,” she says, letting the syllables line up in her head. “Yes. Mom. That’s me.”

It’s not the first time she’s called herself Clark’s mother, but it seems somehow strange to say it to _him_ , permanent. Like this means she really gets to keep him.

She grins, stupid and so wide her cheeks probably split. “Mom. Ha.”

He’s only making sounds, she knows. But it doesn’t feel that way.

/ / /

Clark learning to walk claims many casualties, but Lena’s never cared much for expensive furniture anyway. It’s probably a side effect of spending the first few years of her life with hardly any possessions, just a thin mattress and a broken doll, because money has always made her slightly uncomfortable. Like the things she owns stick to her skin, tug at her muscles.

Clark grabs chairs to pull himself up, and the wood groans and splits, and she buys harder chairs. A particularly grumpy stomp shatters a nearby glass coffee table and rattles Lena’s teeth in her head. She brings home a steel one and baby-proofs the corners even though she knows he can’t hurt himself on them. He tears the couch throw rug when trying to stop a fall, and it sheers nearly in half. She thanks him for making it so they have one blanket each, and he grins proudly at her.

/ / /

She looks into the meteor shower that brought Clark to Earth. There was a similar one nearly a decade previous, but no mentions of anyone being found.

“I think it’s just you, buddy,” she mumbles to him one night, when he’s asleep on her stomach.

He sighs in his sleep, and snuggles in closer, like he’s trying to get inside her chest.

/ / /

He’s a peaceful baby; hardly ever cries. She fears that the lack of tears mean something’s wrong, but he’s just a happy kid. Big, blue eyes taking in the whole world as if he knows it isn’t his, hands grasping at every object within reach, and staggering gracelessly to those out of reach as well. He loves people, loves to hug them and burrow into them and drape himself over their laps and shoulders.

/ / /

She wonders if all children are as curious as Clark. He’s never seen a thing he doesn’t want to hold, trace with his fingers, and more often than not, put in his pocket.

He cries when twigs snap in his grip, and they talk about being gentle.

The first time he accidentally hurts her, he wails for hours, hiding under a cushion that is in fact far too small to hide under, even though she tells him it’s okay a thousand times. She wraps her hand and eventually coaxes him out with the promise of chocolate and cartoons, and does her best not to wince when he grabs her fingers at a particularly exciting part of the episode.

/ / /

His first word is “Look.”

“Look-look, Mommy,” he hollers, desperate to share every facet of this new and exciting world with her, as if it’s fresh for her, too. She acts like it is, urges him on, lets him try to drown himself in colours and places and smiles, living brightly and wildly in every direction.

“Look-look!” A tree.

“Look-look!” A cat. A cute one.

“Look-look!” A rock. That one goes in his pocket. Hopefully she’ll remember to take it out before she chucks his outfit in the washing machine.

His love of everything is infectious, and Lena doesn’t think the world seemed this beautiful and technicolour, not even when she was a kid herself, not even when Lex was alive.

You’d think the supposedly terrible twos would be worse with a superpowered baby, but Lena thinks there is nothing terrible at all about any of the days they live in.

/ / /

When Clark is nearly three, Supergirl cleaves her way through the skies, rescuing a plane.

Lena isn’t sure if there’s even a chance she and Clark are the same – he can’t fly, or at least, he never has. But the way she lifted that plane… well, there’s a possibility. And Lena can’t let it pass by, not when Clark claps excitedly every time the superhero is on-screen.

So Lena begs her father to let her head up the new branch opening in National City, and heads off to start a new life, just her and Clark and the ember of an idea that he isn’t the only one of his kind.

Lena has no idea how to go about finding Supergirl, but hopefully, she’ll find them.

It occurs to her that this alien girl might try to take Clark from her, take him to their home planet, wherever that is, and the thought is like turning inside out. But – but she can’t deny Clark this. Not when she loves him so completely.

/ / /

The anniversary of Lex’s death passes, and it hurts a little less. It still aches, wide and deep and ragged, but she is okay. She has Clark and she is okay.

/ / /

Clark is mostly very good at being gentle, these days, understands how much strength to use to accomplish what he wants. And they have rules, rules like, _even if you want to lift that puppy up, you can’t, only pet him_ , that he’s good at following.

Lena risks sending him to a kindergarten. It’s private, with only five or so students in a class, and every staff member is up to their ears in NDA agreements. She can only hope that if Clark slips up, denial will convince the supervisors that they didn’t see whatever they think they saw. And, well – she and Clark can always move, disappear, if they need to. She can’t deny him a shot at a normal life just because she’s afraid.

He loves it there, thrilled to be around other children, and she’s glad. Glad, too, that when a stomach bug goes around the kindergarten, he’s fine. She still worries about him, constantly, but unlike every other parent, has the benefit of knowing it’s just paranoia – Clark’s far healthier and safer than she is.

/ / /

She meets Kara when she comes in with James Olsen, the photographer, to talk about the opening of the National City branch of Luthor Corp.

Kara is cute and funny and Lena can’t help but be a little transfixed at the awkward way she pushes her glasses up her nose when she’s nervous. She looks like someone wrapped sunshine in a pastel sweater, and Lena is blown away by it.

/ / /

Supergirl is National City’s eternal darling, and it’s a rare day that there isn’t at least a puff piece about her running in some magazine, if she’s not already the news headline of the day for some new heroic stunt.

Lena studies a still of her, a photo credited to James Olsen, and thinks that her eyes look kind of like Clark’s.

/ / /

They find a stray kitten in the grocery store parking lot. Clark’s never thrown a proper tantrum in his whole life, but he slams himself into the gutter, and refuses to leave unless they take the cat with them.

Lena’s read lots of books about psychology and toddlers and how you _definitely_ should not give into their every whim and demand. And Lena’s pretty good about insisting on greens and no more cartoons and putting toys back when you’re done playing, but to be honest, she doesn’t want to leave the poor little kitten in the dark and the cold either.

“Okay,” she relents. “But not because you staged a sit-in. Because I like cats.”

He grins at her so brightly that she knows it wouldn’t matter what she’s just said; he’s too excited about the cat to care.

“Call him Supergirl,” Clark giggles. “Super Duper!”

She has no intention of letting him call their new stray kitten Super Duper, but somehow it sticks, even if it is totally ridiculous.

/ / /

Sure, Lena runs into Kara more often than is technically just “fate”. Sue her. It’s not like she’s going to take it any further; Clark is her number one priority, and she can’t risk him getting attached to someone who’ll only walk out and hurt him in the end. He won’t ever suffer for her mistakes.

But… it is nice to have a friend who understands her even when she talks science, who’s patient, who isn’t secretly looking for a way to get rich off her family name.

/ / /

“Mom work day! Mom work day!” Clark is happily untying the laces she just did up for him, wriggling with excitement over the possibility of going into Luthor Corp with her. She wonders if he has any memory of all the days they spent in the lab together when he was a baby.

He’ll probably be a lot less cheerful after an hour, when he realises most of what she does is paperwork, answering phone calls, and talking to boring people in suits.

“I love ants at day care!” he tells her as they walk towards the elevator, walking slowly so his tiny strides can easily keep up with her longer ones.

It takes her a moment, but she works out he’s happy that the building his class is in is being fumigated. “It’s not ants, Clark,” she says, and goes on to explain, and to his credit, it’s nearly a minute before he tires of the idea, and starts trying to press every button on the elevator wall.

He spends the morning with Jess while she’s in meetings, and then comes in to sit with her while she whiles away the afternoon with a novel-sized stack of paperwork.

“Nyoom, nyoom,” he mutters to himself as he runs his toy fire trucks up and down the sides of her desk. She runs her hand through the soft black tufts of his hair absently, and he leans up into her touch, humming in a satisfied way that she thinks he picked up from their cat.

She’s in the zone of checking boxes and signing on dotted lines when the door bursts open, sunshine whirling in.

“Hey, Lena, Jess said you had a minute and to just come on through -” Kara rambles, coming to a halt in the middle of the room when she catches sight of Clark, who is watching her, half-curious, half-apprehensive.

Lena stands and picks him up, resting him on her hip, the plastic truck still in his hands. He buries his face in Lena’s neck, suddenly shy.

“Kara, this is Clark,” she offers, and pokes him gently to coax him into looking up. “Clark, this is Kara. She comes here for work sometimes.”

“Work-work,” he echoes, staring down at the toy he’s clutching.

Kara knows about Clark – everyone does. She’s listened to Lena’s stories about him (all carefully edited to remove even the slightest suggestion of the extra-terrestrial), grinning and laughing and awww-ing at all the right moments. But they’ve never met.

And now Kara is watching him curiously, with something almost like dulled recognition in her eyes. The way you might look at someone at a high school reunion, whose face you know but can’t quite place.


	2. part 2

“I swear there was something about him, Alex,” Kara says, throwing herself down on the couch and pressing her face into a throw pillow. This whole day has been bright, as if the sun were within it and not above it, and her body is filled with the first tentative threads of hope.

Alex folds herself into the chair beside her, far less dramatically, and takes a careful sip of her beer before replying. “Are you sure this isn’t because you love kids and have a Texas-sized crush on Lena Luthor?”

Kara vaults upright indignantly. “Excuse me. I do not.” It’s good that her job almost never requires her to lie, because she’s going steadily redder than her cape.

The raised eyebrow she receives in reply takes the wind out of her sails, and she slumps back in defeat. “Maybe a Pennsylvania-sized crush.”

“Texas.”

“Shut up.”

“Nope. Look, Kara, it’s been ten years since you saw Kal-El, and he was a baby back then. Remember that boy from the kindergarten you also thought was Kal? Or that freshman from National City Central High School you figured was him aged up?” Alex sighs. “I know you want to find him, desperately. I know. If you went missing, I would never, ever stop looking for you. But you can’t jump into this, okay? You can’t just walk up to Lena Luthor and demand to take her kid in for testing, because not only will you totally give yourself away as Supergirl, you’ll probably ruin whatever it is you might have with her, and she’ll never trust you again.”

Kara groans. “I know. I know. And it’s not like I can just borrow him for a few hours, that’d be weird. Maybe I’m just grasping at straws. He didn’t even seem to recognise me.”

“He’s a baby. Aren’t they kinda dumb?”

“Alex!”

“It’s not mean, it’s biology,” Alex defends.

Kara knows from her smirk that she’s just trying to wind her up, but it doesn’t stop her from huffing, “Kal is Kryptonian. He’d be extremely smart.”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe not. I mean, so much of that was culture. Sure, he’s probably bright for his age, but I doubt Lena is teaching her kid calculus. If I’d grown up like her, with a crazy, pressure-y mom like that… I’d go out of my way to let my kid know it was okay to be normal, or to suck at stuff. I doubt she’s pushing him the way you were pushed.”

“You’re right. And Clark Luthor is probably just Clark Luthor,” Kara admits.

“Yep.”

They sit in silence for a moment, eating pizza and de-stressing, until memories of that afternoon start bubbling up inside her again. “He’s _so_ cute though, Alex. And so polite. You should’ve seen his little cars. And he was all shy and quiet and she’s so good with him…”

Alex watches her for a long moment, her expression soft and tinted with what Kara calls the Big Sister Gaze. “Even if he’s not Kal, it’s okay to want to get to know him. He’s a part of Lena’s life. Just like you want to be.”

Kara forgets to try and deny it again.

/ / /

It’s two weeks before Kara sees Clark again, this time when Lena’s come to CatCo for a meeting with the Queen of All Media herself.

Kara’s thrilled to see them both, but she’s confused as to why Lena would’ve brought Clark with her, until Lena puts him down and he toddles toward Cat at full speed.

“Cat-Cat-Cat,” he chants. “I have a cat at home now, too.”

Catching Kara’s confused look, Lena shrugs. “I knew Cat growing up. Same circles, you know how it is. She was always a mentor to me, much more than anyone in my own family. She used to drop by whenever she was in Metropolis. Clark adores her.”

It takes Kara longer to process then it probably should. Cat has two kids, so it makes sense that she would know how to deal with them. Right? Except Kara can’t exactly imagine Cat any different than she is.

Of course, then Cat reaches down and carefully shakes Clark’s hand, as if he’s a tiny businessman, which he thinks is absolutely hilarious. Judging by the tiny quirk of her lips, it’s not entirely for his entertainment, either.

“Good day, Mr Luthor,” she says.

“Day,” he replies, in what he clearly thinks is a very professional manner, but mostly involves him scrunching his eyebrows into an exaggerated frown.

Cat then offers him her bowl of candies, smiling even wider when she sees Lena wince slightly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the sugar high won’t really hit until _after_ our meeting.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Lena mutters.

She reaches down and picks up her son, taking him over to the corner with a picture book.

“Oh,” Kara finds herself saying, “I can play with him for a while.”

Lena brightens. “Really? You wouldn’t mind? We’ll only be a few minutes.”

Cat raises an eyebrow, but shrugs in agreement. “I can only assume it’ll be more useful than whatever Kiera’s currently doing.”

“I’m working on an article about alien-human marriage,” Kara protests, but she also knows full well that Cat is perfectly aware of that, and merely enjoys occasionally toying with Kara like she used to.

Lena takes Clark’s hand and leads him back over to Kara. He stares at her for a moment with his wide, blue eyes, and then apparently decides she’s intimidating, and buries his face in Lena’s skirt. “It’s okay, darling,” she whispers. “You remember Kara? She’s going to watch you for a moment while I talk to Cat, okay? Like Jess does. I’ll be right in here if you need anything.”

He watches her distrustfully.

“I have blocks,” Kara tells him.

Sold.

He staggers cheerfully towards her, and she leads him out of the office, thanking Rao that she inherited all Winn’s little desk toys when he left for the DEO. Most of the figurines probably have too many small parts to give to a kid, but his colourful paperweight bricks are perfect.

They sit across from each other, building towers. Eventually, Clark seems to settle around her, and starts babbling as he works, explaining how there has to be a block between the green and the red ones, otherwise the tower will melt. She isn’t quite sure what thought process got him there, but she’s happy to play along.

When he accidentally kicks one under the filing cabinet, it slides too far for even Kara to reach it.

“Sorry, bud,” she says. She could easily lift the cabinet, of course, but she doesn’t want to freak him out. Maybe kids don’t know how strong adults are supposed to be? She isn’t sure. Doesn’t seem worth the risk, though.

Clark looks torn. “I can get it,” he mutters. He gazes at Kara steadily. “But not while you’re here.”

Kara’s about to ask what he means, whether it’s just more nonsensical toddler babble, but then the door is opening and Lena is walking in. Clark forgets Kara instantly, racing up towards his mother, talking a mile a minute and Lena nods thoughtfully even though Kara doesn’t think there’s any way she could possibly have followed his adorable little ramble.  

“Pizza now?” he asks, squishing his tiny palms against Lena’s cheeks. Kara’s heart stutters at the image, even though she tells herself it doesn’t.

Lena turns to Kara and raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, and suddenly Kara would tell her absolutely anything she wanted to know. “That depends. Were you well-behaved for Kara?”

“Yes!” he shrieks, confidently, then pauses, turning to Kara for backup. “Yes?”

“You were very good,” she says, and he grins widely at her, and even though the last time she saw Kal was years ago and he was too little to have teeth, she can’t help but think there is something familiar about that smile.

“Okay then,” Lena agrees. “Kara, would you like to join us?”

It isn’t actually Kara’s lunch break, and she’s got a whole article to write. Not to mention, she said she’d help James out with those layouts, and she can’t get behind on work, because she promised to head to the DEO later.

“I’d love to.”

/ / /

After their pizza not-date, during which Clark eats far more than Kara thinks should be able to fit inside his tiny body, they fall together more often.

Sometimes, on phone calls, Kara can hear Clark chattering on in the background, or the loud, silly noises of children’s TV shows. Occasionally, Lena calls out to him, _sorry Kara, one sec – Clark, darling, maybe Super Duper doesn’t want to be petted right now_ , and once, there was an extremely loud crash which prompted Lena to quickly hang up.

Gradually, they run out of work-related excuses to bump into each other. Kara’s the one to bite the bullet, and just ask the two of them over to hang out, and judging by Lena’s fast, bright smile, it isn’t a misstep. They make brownies and though Lena only has one, Clark matches Kara bite for bite, extremely enthusiastic about the entire affair, until he passes out on her couch right afterwards.

He seems to like her a lot more after the whole brownie thing, and instead barely moving more than a few feet from Lena when they’re together, he’s happy to follow her around her apartment, giving her a quiet, running commentary as he goes. It’s like being on an HGTV show, except every comment is positive.

“I like that,” he tells her seriously, pointing at a half-finished painting.

“I like this,” he adds a second later, lifting up a couch cushion with a spaghetti stain.

“I _love_ this,” he says emphatically, holding up, what looks to Kara, to be a totally ordinary banana from her fruit bowl.

“I love it, too,” she promises, and he seems pleased with that.

Lena laughs. “We’ve been trying to articulate how we feel about things at our house, haven’t we, Clark?”

“Articulate,” he assures Kara, in such a way that she’s pretty sure he doesn’t really know what it means, but it awfully pleased he can make the sounds.

“It’s an effort to avoid head-shaking and foot-stamping,” Lena explains. “But he’s got very attached to it. He’ll rate pigeons if you stand still long enough.” She pats his head gently, lovingly, and he smiles widely up at her, and Kara almost feels like it’s just for them, like she shouldn’t even be there. But then they both turn and give her matching grins, and it all rights itself again.

/ / /

At Luthor Corp events, though, it’s just the two of them – Lena has told Kara she absolutely refuses to let the press become a part of Clark’s life, and they’ve never got more than a few telephoto lens shots of a blurred bundle.

“When he’s older,” Lena tells her, “he can make the choice for himself. I wish I’d had a say in it. I’m making sure he gets one.”

It’s moments like that, when she’s talking about Clark, that Lena says the most about herself, Kara thinks. All the things she mentions offhandedly about the life she’s trying to build for them hint at what childhood was like for her, and it always makes Kara’s stomach turn. She wonders what her life would’ve been like if a kindly star-watcher hadn’t found her pod in the middle of a field, and brought a crying teenager back to his family. She wouldn’t have Eliza, or Alex, or even Jeremiah for the brief time she knew him.

Kara clings to the minutes they catch together at galas and conferences and meetings, because Lena is beautiful and interesting and patient and kind. She’s given up telling Alex that she isn’t almost embarrassingly interested, and she might’ve said something, if Lena had ever given any indication she felt the same. But those too-long gazes, too-tight hugs – it’s always Lena who pulls away first, who steps back, who laughs it off and changes the subject.

/ / /

“Lena?” Kara presses the phone to her ear with her shoulder, hands occupied with using super-speed to finish dinner before Alex arrives. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Kara, I’m terribly sorry to do this to you, but both my sitters bailed and Jess needs to come with me, and -”

“Slow down, Lena. It’s alright, whatever it is.”

She can hear Lena take a deep breath on the other end of the line. “There’s been an explosion at one of the R&D labs. I have to go make sure everything’s okay, and deal with the press. Could I trouble you to watch Clark for a few hours? I promise, I’ll give you a quote for every article you ever write, and -”

“Lena, you don’t have to bargain. I’m happy to look after him. Seriously. It’s all good. Do you want to bring him by, or do I come pick him up?”

“You’re a life saver. Thank you so much, Kara. Is it okay if I drop him off in, uh – ten minutes?”

“Perfect,” Kara says, and means it.

Lena’s only there for a few hurried moments, telling her to call if anything goes wrong or if Clark wants to speak to her, and rushing off, quickly kissing Kara’s cheek in thanks as she leaves. It leaves Kara blushing and kind of stunned for a moment, and it’s only Clark poking her that starts her out of it.

“Hello,” he says.

“Hi, buddy.” She crouches down. “What do you want to do?”

When Alex arrives a quarter of an hour later, they’re mid pillow fight. Clark drops his pillow immediately, and rushes up to her, scrunching a fist in her pants leg.

“Hi, hi, hi,” he chants.

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so it takes you days to warm up to me, but perfect-stranger Alex is a green light?”

Clark tilts his head. “Green light? Alex?”

Alex stares at him curiously for a moment, before shrugging. “I’m Alex. Nice to meet you.”

“Meet you,” Clark agrees. “Banana?” he offers, pointing to the table, uninhibited by the fact that they’re actually Kara’s bananas.

“Want to halve one?” Alex says, and suddenly, they’re the best of friends.

Alex has never really shown much interest in kids before, but Clark has taken an instant shine to her, unbothered by her slight uncertainty around him.

Later, when he’s asleep in their blanket fort, Alex says, “You know, he does kind of look like you. I mean, the hair, that could be Lena’s. Easy. But if he is Kal… well, he’s got eyes just like yours.”

/ / /

Lena and Clark don’t meet Supergirl until after they’ve known Kara a few months. It’s not by design – not at a charity event or something calm and nice like that, like Kara would’ve wanted. No. They’re both in a jet that a terrorist takes down, determined to murder his ex-employer, some golf tycoon also on board. The two of them are just collateral damage in some other plot, and Kara feels that horrible lurch in her stomach when she gets the call.

She knows she should treat all passengers equally, save fast and indiscriminately, but – well, she can’t. She can’t turn it off.

She guides the plane into the desert for a rocky landing, and immediately tears off a door and swoops, set on finding Lena and Clark.

They were on the side of the wing explosion, and Lena is unconscious, face covered in blood, and a few pieces of shrapnel buried in her side. Clark, by contrast, is fine. He’s in Lena’s arms, like she tried to shield him, and he doesn’t even have a scrape on him.

He’s bawling, though, hands tugging at Lena’s clothing and slapping at her face. When Kara approaches carefully, worried about upsetting him more but desperately needing to check Lena over, he turns to her.

“Kara!” he calls desperately, bouncing up and down where he sits, waving her over.

“Really?” she hisses. Maybe this isn’t as good a disguise as she thought, if a three-year-old can peg it.

But Clark seems to have calmed down now she’s there, reaching for her insistently. “Help Mom, help Mom,” he urges. “Please help.”

“Alex is on her way, we’re gonna get your mom to hospital, okay?” She finds Lena’s pulse, and it’s not as steady as she’d like, but it’s there. Kara uses her x-ray vision, and sees that the shards of metal in Lena’s side go deep, deep enough to cause internal bleeding, although Kara can’t tell how bad it is.

She uses super-speed to do a quick check of the other passengers – not a single other one is conscious, whether because of the bomb or the rapidly changing altitudes, she can’t tell. Which makes it all the stranger that Clark is totally fine.

“We’re here,” Alex announces into her earpiece, unnecessarily. Kara could hear them coming, hear them pull up beside the wrecked plane.

Alex is first through the door, then Donovan, who’s got a first aid kit.

“Here,” Kara calls, and he hurries over to Lena, reaching out.

“NO!” Clark yells at him. “No touching!” He looks scared, like he thinks Donovan might make it worse instead of better.

“It’s okay,” Kara assures him, and Donovan moves, one hand landing on Lena’s cheek. And then Clark lurches up and shoves him, hard.

“No touching!”

So hard he falls back into the row of seats behind him. Clark starts sobbing again.

“What the hell?” Donovan yells, staggering upright, and his raised voice only makes Clark more distraught.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t gentle,” Clark whispers, turning back to Lena, and then realising she still isn’t awake, didn’t witness it. “I’m sorry.” He presses his face into her shirt, his whole body shaking.  

Kara freezes. Adults only fall back from kids like that if they’re joking. And this is pretty much the opposite of the time for joking.

She glances up at Alex, who meets her gaze with the same expression.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you've got a prompt you want filled, come see me @younglemonade!


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